Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. She could not resist enduing persons she met with the noble attributes of the fictional characters. ” “I wish you good luck,” she answered. Wood fared still worse. No, I thank you.
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